


Tightrope

by Arya_Greenleaf



Series: Upheave [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (2019)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Female Armitage Hux, Female Ejaculation, Female Kylo Ren, Light Bondage, Manhandling, Manipulation, Praise Kink, Submissive Kylo Ren, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya_Greenleaf/pseuds/Arya_Greenleaf
Summary: Kylo doesn’t answer at first. She blinks and tries to focus on Hux’s nose in an attempt to make the up-close world of her a little less blurry. Hux tightens her grip in Kylo’s hair and she groans, the strands straining between Hux’s fingers and her scalp. “Yes, Chancellor,” she grumbles.“Excuse me?”“Yes, Chancellor .”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Upheave [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896583
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Tightrope

**Author's Note:**

> Assume everything is the same except Crait wasn't so embarrassing for the Order. Time has passed since then but none of the more dramatic bits of finale have happened, the Order is succeeding.
> 
> I don't even know if this is good anymore. I hope it is, I've stared at it for too long. Have at it.

_Have you been a good girl?_

It echoes in Kylo’s head, a thousand voices rolled into one. It’s her mother on the eve of her birthday when she asks for an expensive tool kit, far too advanced for a child. It’s the senator whose face she knows but name she doesn’t, asking her how she’s behaved for her parents during the legislature’s long summer recess. It’s her first lover trying to sound tougher than they are while they stroke her backside and threaten to smack it. It’s the spice dealer she pulls into a shadowy corner of an Outer Rim market to buy a supply of glitterstim while her father is distracted. It’s her master’s voice and the master before him, wanting to know if she’s done her practicing and meditating and self flagellation in the name of higher clarity.

But now it’s Hux.

Crisp and clear and direct, even whispered so extremely low. It’s honey and vinegar all at once and Kylo wants nothing more than to swim in a big pool of it.

_Good girl good girl goodgirl goodgirlgoodgirlhaveyoubeenagoodgirl --_

“I said,” Hux hisses and yanks Kylo’s head back. “Have you been a good girl?”

The pain in her scalp makes Kylo remember she still has a body -- her corporeal prison responding in kind by remembering to ache. Her arms feel bloodless, her bound hands throbbing somewhere in the space above her head. Her shoulders burn and her neck is sore. Even if it weren’t for the bar between her ankles, she’s too tired to stand up properly and relieve the dead-hang of her weight.

“Yes,” Kylo croaks and breathes deeply. Hux smells like the astringent soap the troopers are given in their personal care kits. The smell of cigarettes is much more subtle. She’s been out for a smoke but she’s taken her jacket off. It clings to her hair in wispy tendrils of scent. Her breath smells of mouthwash, artificially minty over the tobacco.

Hux yanks again and Kylo yelps. “Look at me,” she commands. Head craned back, Kylo can’t quite focus but she thinks it’s enough that she’s directed her gaze in the vague direction of Hux’s face. “Yes, what?”

Kylo doesn’t answer at first. She blinks and tries to focus on Hux’s nose in an attempt to make the up-close world of her a little less blurry. Hux tightens her grip in Kylo’s hair and she groans, the strands straining between Hux’s fingers and her scalp. “Yes, Chancellor,” she grumbles.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, _Chancellor_.”

Hux relaxes her grip and smiles, breathing out heavily through her nose. The air tickles Kylo’s cheeks and makes the fine strands at her hairline dance annoyingly across her forehead. “Tell me all the good things that you’ve done.”

Hux’s hands are so warm on Kylo’s skin. The drag of the callouses on the palm of her shooting hand is deliciously familiar. Her fingertips glide across Kylo’s stomach -- up over the swell of her breasts -- across her underarms and down her back. Hux encourages her to talk, massaging her twitching, tired triceps.

“I ordered an official sanction against the homeplanets of the New Rebellion -- no trade in or out until they’re found and brought to us for trial. We’ll starve them out if we need to.”

“Mm, a worthy piece of legislature.” Hux steps in closer, pressing herself firmly against Kylo’s side. Kylo doesn’t know whether she wants to cringe or rejoice at the thought of her own sweat turning Hux’s grey undershirt dark. “What else?”

“I ordered the commission of a new ship for you to command.”

“Is that a bribe?” Hux asks, just the barest jovial lift to her tone. With one arm wrapped around Kylo’s middle, she slips her hand between Kylo’s legs. Her fingers catch and pull at the ungroomed hair there as they sink into it. She teases, nails scratching just at the surface before she pushes her fingers between soft lips.

“No,” Kylo says and pauses, thinking she might need to answer carefully. “The Finalizer took so long to repair -- what if it happens again?”

“Do you doubt my ability to command?”

Hux pinches and the edges of her nails dig cruelly into the flushed hood of Kylo’s clit. She sucks in air, startled at the jolt of pain racing from between her legs to her brain. “Of course not,” Kylo insists. “But they’re rebels and traitors -- they’re reckless. We know they’re willing to take on suicide missions to damage our fleet. Why not have a ship waiting in the wings?”

“You should make this new ship of yours your own.” Kylo glups, Hux grinding her most sensitive bit of flesh between her fingertips. She rises onto her toes, or does so as much as she can with her legs secured as they are. “You need a place of your own. A base of operations.”

“I have one, here.”

“And when you’re not here?”

“The Finalizer still serves her purpose well. When she’s off the ground.”

Hux clucks her tongue. The sound is like a sonic boom so close to Kylo’s ear. “We’ll have to discuss this more later. When you’re less distracted, I think.” She turns her face just fractions and rubs her cheek gently against Kylo’s tired arm. “How do your hands feel?” Kylo makes an indecisive sound and Hux looks up, squinting into the distance above Kylo’s head. “Move them.” Kylo does, feebly, and Hux frowns.

Hux crosses the room. It’s very sparsely furnished beyond the anchor in the ceiling and the stark, highly polished mirrors Kylo faces. She thinks someone among the many spawn of the governor she had seized this sprawling estate from had been a dancer. She’s not entirely sure, the blood splattered on the ground when she’d toured the space gave up no secrets.

There is a footlocker in the corner, tucked neatly beneath a sink -- the wall otherwise bare, save for a toppled stool. Hux picks it up and walks it over. It’s just tall enough for Kylo to lean on the edge of while Hux sinks to one knee to unbuckle the bar. She looks up at Kylo from this lower vantage, thoughtful in a way that makes Kylo shiver. “Only so much suffering is necessary.”

Kylo has to look away. She lets the edge of the stool support her and her arms sag just a bit, the smallest length of slack in the line that keeps her arms hoisted to the sky this way. She flexes her toes and rolls her ankles one at a time. Hux kneels there for a moment, scarred knuckles brushing so gently up and down the back of Kylo’s stubbly calf. She’d had to shave -- arms, legs, the soft fuzz on her belly -- bending to the ludicrous customs of some backwater world to court their cooperation. Hux had taken pleasure in it, insisting on scraping the lathered blade over Kylo’s skin herself rather than getting some grooming droid with a laser fitting to take care of it. Kylo had drawn the line between her legs, she wouldn’t be naked there. 

“A good girl tells us when she hurts. She doesn’t just let it happen.” Hux rises in a fluid motion, like a felinx stretching in a sliver of sun. “You are a good girl, aren’t you?” Kylo nods. She’s mildly surprised when Hux doesn’t demand a verbal response. “Good,” Hux whispers. “Now move your fingers.”

_Goodgoodgood._

They’re less weird and numb now, full of pins-and-needles static instead. Kylo opens and closes her fists above her head. Hux nods, satisfied, and swats her side with a firm backhand. Kylo stands, the instruction clear, and Hux moves the stool away. She’s decided Kylo has had enough rest, clearly.

“Tell me about the rest, now. What else did you do?” Hux fits her face into the space under Kylo’s chin and breathes in deep. She wraps her arms around Kylo, constricting her and grabbing handfuls of flesh. Kylo can feel the hard bearings that frame Hux’s nipples, her lovely small breasts flattened against her. Kylo curls her toes against the floor and breathes through her nose. “You were so terribly busy all day -- not even a single spare moment for an audience with your Chancellor.”

“There were an exhaustive number of appeals for my attention.” Kylo shifts her stance. Hux is solid and heavy, taking up the little slack that she’d gained without her feet forced apart. “You have it all now. Isn’t that what’s important?”

Hux straightens and shrugs, her face too close to Kylo’s. Her sharp eyes are frightening at this distance, so clear and sure. The pale freckles across Hux’s nose -- a sore point, only developed after so much time on this sunny, happily temperate planet -- are blurred into a sepia haze.

Hux’s arms release; her greedy, vice grip still hanging on Kylo’s body like a phantom limb. She watches Kylo, expectantly. She won’t ask again. She wants Kylo distracted, although for what purpose Kylo doesn’t know. She can estimate, of course. Hux has two hands and a sharp strike. There’s the footlocker in the corner, full of known-mysteries. Kylo thinks of the bite of leather and plasto and wood and reed and tightly braided fathier hair. She considers the pressure of clamps and airlock pumps and the pull of weights and the stretch of steel and glass.

“The morning was easier,” Kylo starts. “The Hutts are hardly a threat. They’re not entirely valuable, either, but they think they are.”

Hux circles her, looking her over. She pokes and prods and pinches, watching with interest while her fingerprints pinken and pale, springing back on power-softened flesh. She comes to a halt behind Kylo, reaching forward to knead almost absently at her breasts. She nods along and makes sounds of agreement while Kylo describes the approval she’d signed off on for newer, more deadly fighters in the field.

Kylo hisses, pain and surprise flooding her senses at the rough, abrupt pinch-twisting of her nipples. “My -- _ahh -- ahh! --_ my fleet will be the envy of this galaxy and the next.”

Hux laughs and draws Kylo closer, making her take unsteady steps backward. “Pretty craft shooting pretty lights to make pretty explosions don’t mean much of anything if the pretty pilots behind the controls aren’t trained properly. You need to allocate more funds.”

“The Order doesn’t _have_ the funds to allocate.”

While they bicker, Hux’s hands roam. She glues herself to Kylo’s sticky back, breathing in the salty scent of her hair, and presses both hands between her legs. She pushes, massaging and groping into the junction of Kylo’s thighs -- the hot space between her legs and where they join her body -- edging them apart. Kylo shift and tilts. She curves her spine into the warm shell of Hux. She tips her pelvis, _willing_ her cunt into Hux’s selfish hands.

“Find the credits, Kylo,” Hux murmurs.

Kylo flexes her hands. She squeezes her fists shut and releases them. The fatigue in her arms is relentless and it takes all of her focus to stay on the balls of her feet and not let the frustrated tears burning her eyes fall.

“Won’t you find them for me, Supreme Leader?” 

All at once Kylo is _full_.

Full of Hux’s fingers, full of relief.

Hux strokes her belly, the muscles jumping and twitching. Kylo’s legs shake; she grabs desperately at the air, her fingers too clumsy in trying to hold onto their tether. Her mind lights up, neurons bursting in brilliant colors that dull much too quickly. Hux is being intentionally cruel, just pausing there with her fingers buried inside of Kylo right up to the knuckle, _knowing._

“I’ll move them away from Pryde’s division. She has too much lee _whay_ ,” Kylo gasps.

“Mm,” Hux assents and curls her fingers inside of Kylo, _ohsoslowly_.

“She n-needs to be reminded who-who-who’s above huh- _er_ ,” Kylo stammers.

“Oh,” Hux breathes. “Such a good girl, you are.”

_Yes, so good. A good girl._

It happens fast then, like a sonic train hurtling from one side of the hemisphere to the other. Hux’s fingers stay curled while her hand pumps, _so fast_ , tips punching into the springy bit of tissue Kylo can never get at properly on her own again and again. Kylo flushes with heat, body on fire, and she _shakes_ so hard she thinks she might knock Hux over. She laughs at the notion and Hux responds by clutching her closer, as if trying to shove her hand straight through Kylo’s belly.

Everything is white-hot and icy. Kylo can’t breathe. Her heartbeat thuds in her ears and her head throbs. All of the flesh below her navel tingles and the soles of her feet itch.

Hux’s palm makes wet sounds, still pumping into Kylo’s hole and against her clit even though it all just hurts now. Her boots shriek against the smooth floor, slick and unstable. She stops, breathing just as heavily as Kylo is. Carefully, gently, she slides her fingers out. She pets Kylo’s lips, strokes her mons affectionately.

Hux fills Kylo’s mouth with wet fingers. “When will you do it?”

“ _Mm_.”

“When?” Hux shoves her fingers in _just_ too far and Kylo gags. “Hm?”

Kylo gasps, sucking in air like it’s running out. “First thing,” she wheezes. “First thing in the morning.” Kylo moans and drops her body against Hux. The emptiness is gutting. The circulation to her fingers is questionable and her shoulders are screaming.

Her cunt seizes around nothing.

Hux wipes her hand against Kylo’s breast and pats her cheek. “We’ll have to get you to bed, then. It’ll be an early day.” Hux shifts in a slow circle to stand in front of Kylo. There’s a soft smile on her mouth. It’s unnerving. “Such a good girl.”

_A good girl. A good girl. Good. Good girl goodgirlgoodgoodggoodgirl._

Over the chorus in her brain, Kylo whispers and nods. “Yes, Hux.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love love comments.
> 
> [Find me in all these places.](https://aryagreenleaf.carrd.co/)


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